


About Me

by maginot



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Character Study, Coming Out, Feelings, Gen, Light Angst, Trans Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:00:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25366492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maginot/pseuds/maginot
Summary: “I want to talk to you about something. It’s kinda weird,” Felix says, rubbing the back of his neck. He doesn’t normally wear his hair up, but it’s felt right recently.“I like your hair up. It’s cute,” Sylvain tells him, and he hates that his cheeks heat up.“Are you listening?” Felix grumps.“Yeah, yeah. You have something weird to talk to me about. What is it? Boy problems?”Felix almost laughs because, yeah, in a way. He takes a big breath and then looks at the ground. It’s hard to meet Sylvain’s eyes all the time, but now it’s even worse. “I’m….I want to be called Felix.”“Felix?” Sylvain chuckles. “Well that’s a boy’s name.”Felix is sure that his ears are on fire with how hard he’s blushing. “Yeah, exactly.”
Comments: 8
Kudos: 63





	About Me

**Author's Note:**

> trans felix, written by a trans person :)

Felix. 

He wanted to be called Felix.

He looks at himself in the mirror, swallowing hard before he says, “My name is Felix Hugo Fraldarius.” His eyes tear up and he takes a shuddering breath, trying to will them away. He’s always been a crybaby, a crybaby little girl but not now, not anymore. He’s 12, and he’s a boy. The tears fall from his cheeks, and now he lets them. “My name is Felix Hugo Fraldarius. I am no one else.”

.

He had picked his new name from a book. The Felix in that book was a random character. He wasn’t a knight or a prince, just a common boy who lived in the village. The main character of the story had spoken to him a time or two, just long enough to get his name and exchange some pleasant conversations. Felix sits against his bedroom window. His bedroom, decorated in the pinks and purples his mother had wanted him to love so much. He tucks his knees against his chest, resting his chin on them. From here, he can see the entire territory. In the book where he found his name, the prince and princess lived in a castle on top of a hill. 

Felix feels a lot like that. He doesn’t want to, doesn’t want to be on top of anyone at all. 

He wants to be like the Felix in the book-- normal, unnoticeable, and born a boy.

.

He decides to tell Sylvain first, mostly because Sylvain is the first one of his friends that comes to Fraldarius territory. Sylvain greets him by the wrong name that’s actually right and Felix feels himself shrivel up inside. “Hey, what’s the matter?” Sylvain asks. 

Sylvain is a few years older than Felix. He’s tall and handsome and has plenty of girls that like to talk to him whenever they’re in the market. Girls that aren’t Felix, because Feliix isn’t a girl.

_I am Felix Hugo Fraldarius. I am no one else._

“I want to talk to you about something. It’s kinda weird,” Felix says, rubbing the back of his neck. He doesn’t normally wear his hair up, but it’s felt right recently. 

“I like your hair up. It’s cute,” Sylvain tells him, and he hates that his cheeks heat up.

“Are you listening?” Felix grumps.

“Yeah, yeah. You have something weird to talk to me about. What is it? Boy problems?”

Felix almost laughs because, yeah, in a way. He takes a big breath and then looks at the ground. It’s hard to meet Sylvain’s eyes all the time, but now it’s even worse. “I’m….I want to be called Felix.” 

“Felix?” Sylvain chuckles. “Well that’s a boy’s name.”

Felix is sure that his ears are on fire with how hard he’s blushing. “Yeah, exactly.”

“Does that mean…” He trails off and dips his head down, trying to catch Felix’s eye. “You want to be a boy too?”

Felix doesn’t meet his eyes but he does give Sylvain a little nod.

“Huh. Well that does make sense. You want to be a knight like your brother and all.” He sighs, and Felix’s insides twist up, his gut churning with what Sylvain might say next. “Okay, Felix, sounds good to me. You can help me pick up girls the next time we go to town.” 

His name coming from Sylvain’s mouth brings honest tears to his eyes. It sounds so good that it resonates deep inside of him, taking hold of his soul and burying itself in. He’s Felix, according to Sylvain, at least. No one else matters. The power of a single person believing in him means more to him than he can ever say. Felix dives into Sylvain before he can think twice about it, wrapping his arms around Sylvain’s middle and burying his face into his chest. He lets out a sob against Sylvain’s shirt before he says, “Thank you.” 

Sylvain hesitantly brings a hand up to hold him back. He sounds shocked when he says, “You’re welcome.” He lets Felix cry into his shoulder, resting his head on top of Felix’s and rubbing gentle strokes up and down his back. “Felix,” he says again, like he’s trying the name out. “Did you tell anyone else?” 

Felix shakes his head no. “You gotta tell Glenn,” Sylvain tells him. Felix pouts, and is happy Sylvain can’t see it. Sylvain’s just three years older than him, but he has this way of bringing out Felix’s most childish behaviors. He wonders if it’s because he feels safe with Sylvain in a way that he doesn’t with his family, or if it’s something different, something he can’t place yet. 

“I’ll tell him eventually,” is what Felix settles on. It’s true. He will. 

.

Sylvain’s staying at his house, just as he always does when the Margrave has business with the Duke. During dinner Sylvain has to call him by his old name. Felix had told him so after he had settled down and stopped his weeping and the two of them had taken a walk through town. When Felix had walked down the stairs in a dress with his hair down, Sylvain offered him one of those bright grins and his arm to take. Felix knows it’s Sylvain saying, “I know you don’t want to do this,” without saying the words. It’s his friend offering him his support. 

Sometimes Sylvain is a jerk who says mean things and makes Felix cry. Sometimes Sylvain does things like this. The two sides of his friend coexist happily in his brain. He hopes that someday he will be able to feel the same way about himself. There was the before, and now, this begins the after. 

Before he leaves, Sylvain presses a sweet kiss to his cheek and whispers, “Goodbye Felix.” 

It’s enough.

.

He still hasn’t had the courage to tell Glenn or his father when the man tells him, “Darling, we’re going to the castle. I need to meet with the king.” 

Felix frowns. “Why do I have to go? Glenn is your heir, bring him.” It’s not that he doesn’t want to go. Dimitri is his friend, afterall. It’s just that-

“You know I love to see you and the prince together.” His father gives him a knowing smile. Felix pouts even further.

There’s something that not many people know about Felix, not Sylvain or Ingrid or even Glenn. Not even Dimitri knows this about him-- especially not Dimitri. 

As it stands, the king isn’t privy to arranged marriages. He wants his son to grow up and fall in love naturally, to live a long and happy life with the wife of his choosing. But Felix’s father does not agree.

Felix can practically see him dreaming of his and Dimitri’s wedding whenever he sees the two of them standing next to each other. It’s disgusting. He’s not some whore to be married off for status of pleasure. Sure, Glenn is the heir, but that just leaves space for him to do what he really wants to do. He wants to be a mercenary, to fight wherever he’s needed. He’s had some sword training, as is customary in the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus for everyone, but he wants more. He wants to go to the officer’s academy and really learn to fight. He wants to do it all as a boy, as himself, not as Dimitri’s future bride. 

“I know you do,” he answers, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He can feel himself start to shake. He’s immediately furious beyond belief, at his father, at his mother and himself for being born how he was. Everything reaches its boiling point and he doesn’t even think when he says, “But I don’t, because I’m not a girl, I’m a boy.”

His father freezes in place for a moment and for a second, Felix feels victory surge through his veins. Has he won his first battle ever? 

But then, his father laughs. He laughs. He throws his head back and puts his hand on his stomach and laughs. He leans down and places a hand on Felix’s shoulder. It burns.

He says a name that Felix doesn’t want to hear. “You’re such a silly girl, and so adorable when you’re angry. You don’t have to be a boy to fight, you know that! Do you want more sword training?” He says the name again and tears prick at the corners of Felix’s eyes. “I can get you more sword training.” 

Defeat, that’s exactly what this is. Felix sees it clearly. He blinks and the tears spill down his cheeks. He quickly wipes them with the back of his hand. “Yes, I want more sword training.” He says, because at least he can have something. He can learn to fight. He swears that the next battle he’s in is one that he will win. 

.

Felix accompanies his father to the kingdom capital even though he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t have the option to just sit back and say no, Felix knows this. He lets his father pay one of his housemaids to dress him up and paint his face with makeup that makes him look older than he really is. He’s polite to the king as he’s supposed to and is happy when Dimitri quickly asks his father if he can go show Felix the new cat that they found in their stables. Felix’s father calls him by a name he hates and fixes him with a stare that tells him to behave. If the king weren’t looking, Felix would have rolled his eyes.

Dimitri says _that name_ again and Felix turns to him with his fists balled at his sides. “Don’t call me that again!” It’s not his fault, and Felix feels a little bad lashing out at Dimitri like this. He’ll have to apologize later. Ugh.

Dimitri’s eyes are big and as blue as the sky behind him. “W-what should I be calling you then?”

“Felix,” he says rather grumpily. “Call me Felix.”

“Felix?” Dimitri’s face screws up. “Well that’s a silly name to call a girl.”

“That’s because I’m not a girl!”

With Sylvain, that was enough, and Felix should have known that Dimitri wouldn’t be this easy. He looks at Felix completely puzzled, his mouth flopped open like a dumb fish. Felix is suddenly self conscious, realizing the weight of the explanation that he has to give. He sighs and then says, “Can we sit in the meadow and talk?”

“Yes,” Dimitri says, ever the proper, polite prince. “Of course we can.”

The meadow by the castle is Felix’s favorite place in maybe all of Faerghus. It’s full of wildflowers, with a view that shows of the entire kingdom capital. Dimitri sits down in a patch of short grass and Felix takes a seat next to him, uncaring if he dirties his dress in the dirt. He looks out to the village below, fully aware that Dimitri’s eyes are on him. After a moment, he says, “I know that I was born a girl, but I don’t want to be one anymore.” He furrows his brow, trying to figure out how to say what he needs to. “I’ve never really felt like a girl. I don’t like dresses or makeup and I don’t want to be anyone’s bride. And, before you say it, I know that girls can like fighting and words. My father has already made that perfectly clear. But, I’m not a girl. Being a boy feels right, and being called Felix too.”

Felix wonders if he’s ever spoken this many words in a row to Dimitri before. Normally the time they spend together without Sylvain or their friend Ingrid is quiet or full of politics from their parents. It’s never anything like this. 

Maybe that’s why Dimitri says, “Okay, Felix,” easy as anything. Maybe he knows that Felix means this, that he needs this and needs his friend to help him. 

Just like before, Felix feels relieved tears prick at his eyes. He refuses to cry. Dimitri never takes him crying well. Instead he says, “Thank you,” in a voice just loud enough to be able to be heard over the breeze around them.

He keeps looking out to the village. Dimitri does the same. 

.

“I’m going on a mission to Duscur,” Glenn tells him, and every bone in Felix’s body tells him that it’s time, that he needs to tell Glenn what he really is, who he really is. 

Felix doesn’t.

He never sees his brother again.

.

“He died a true knight’s death,” his father tells him and Felix explodes. 

“Is that what you’re telling yourself to justify it? To deal with the fact that your son is dead? That he was supposed to die?” Felix screams and yells. He’s so mad he doesn’t even cry. His father sits in his chair stunned. This is the first dinner Felix has attended since he got the news. He feels too sick to even think about eating now. “He went and died for the king and for the prince and you’re just okay with it? There’s no virtue in dying, father. There’s no glory in it. My brother is _dead._ Just dead, do you understand? He’s gone and he’s never coming back and I’m all alone!” 

Felix gets up from the table, knocking his chair over in the process. 

It’s later, almost time for him to sleep, when his father knocks on his bedroom door. “Go away!” Felix shouts, but his father doesn’t listen, pushing the door open and walking inside. Felix is in his bed, completely covered up by blankets and sheets as if he could keep the pain out by hiding. He’s been crying since he left dinner. His head is starting to ache. 

He feels the bed dip from his father sitting down next to him. He says a name that Felix never wants to hear again and it makes Felix press his face into his mattress and howl. “Stop calling me that, please. Just stop talking to me altogether.” 

“Now, you know I won’t do that. But,” His father hesitates and Felix holds his breath. “I will call you by another name, if you would like that.” Felix doesn’t answer, letting silent sobs wrack his body. His father doesn’t say anything for awhile, and when he does it’s, “Did you ever tell Glenn that you’re…” he doesn’t say the words, but he doesn’t need to. 

“No,” Felix sobs. “I didn’t.” 

“Well I think,” Felix’s father’s voice is so soft it almost hurts, “that Glenn would want you to be as happy as you can be, and to honor that. I’d like to grant you your desire to live your life as a boy.” The words are awkward coming from his tongue, like he himself isn’t even sure how this will work or what Felix exactly wants. But he _said them._ Finally, Felix’s father has said the words that he’s been desperate to hear for almost a year. 

Felix’s sobs become audible then. He lets everything out-- his grief, his happiness, his anger at himself and his father and Glenn for dying. It all comes spilling out of him then. Through his tears, he manages, “My name is Felix Hugo Fraldarius. I am no one else.” 

“Felix,” his father says slowly. “Felix is a fine name, I think. A strong name.” 

“D-do you think Glenn would have liked it?”

His father is silent for a moment and when he speaks again, Felix knows that he’s crying too. “Yes, he would have.” 

His father rests his hand on Felix’s shoulder through the blankets, and Felix lets him.

The two of them cry for what they’ve lost long into the night. 

.

Time and life become precious to Felix in a way that they were never before. As it passes, Felix’s wounds start to scab over. They don’t fully heal. Felix doesn’t think they ever will. 

He sees Ingrid just a few weeks later. As Glenn’s fiance, she was to receive a few of his most prized possessions. Felix is wearing pants instead of a dress when she shows up, and she gives him a funny look before returning her attention to the business at hand. There’s more tears, but Ingrid stands stoic and strong despite them. She does not crumble. She stubbornly refuses to. Felix has always loved that about her. 

Their families eat dinner together, and it isn’t until the adults have gone off to drink in Felix’s father’s study that they get to be alone. They’re sent off to Felix’s room to do whatever it is they want to do. 

Ingrid, blunt as ever, says, “You’re sure dressed differently.”

Felix shrugs. This conversation feels different than the ones he had with Dimitri, Sylvain and even his father. Ingrid was his only girl friend, the only one he had who knew what it was like to have to wear an uncomfortable dress for hours upon hours, the only one he had who knew what it was like to want to fight but to constantly be sidelined instead. For Felix, this conversation feels like he’s giving up something special with his friend, something that she probably needs right now. Guilt seeps into his consciousness and he pushes it aside. It’s better from Ingrid to hear it from him now than it would be later or to hear it from someone else. “I want to be a boy now.” 

Ingrid’s brow furrows up. “Is this because Glenn’s gone?”

“No!” Felix hisses, immediately angry. He forces himself to take a deep breath. Fighting with Ingrid won’t do either of them any good right now. He shakes his head. “No, this was before.”

“Did he know?”

Felix shakes his head once more, his eyes drifting down to the floor. 

“What would you like me to call you. I assume you picked a… more appropriate name.” Ingrid’s voice is steady, calm in a way that Felix doesn’t feel. He wonders what she’s thinking. He can’t tell at all.

“Felix,” he says quietly.

“Right, okay. Felix it is.” Her words fade into awkward silence, and the two of them just kind of sit on the edge of Felix’s bed. Ingrid breaks the silence, because she always knows whenever Felix isn’t feeling like talking. Even when they were little she’d fill up Felix’s days with stories and almost one-sided conversations if he wasn’t in the mood to speak. Into the silence she drops, “Glenn would have liked it.” Her words ripple throughout the room like a stone being thrown into a pond. It doesn’t take long for them to reach Felix and wash over him. 

The sureness in her voice reaffirms what he’d been wondering. His father had told him the same thing, but it feels different coming from the girl his brother had loved. He nods. “I think so too.” 

For the first time in a long time, Felix feels like he can breathe. 

.

Felix trains. He trains and trains and until his muscles break down and rebuild themselves to be even stronger. He finds purpose in his sword. He finds comfort in the fight. This is his purpose. This is why he’s here. His father notices his talent, and just before his fourteenth birthday, Felix is sent to his first battle. “We’re returning to Duscur,” is all that his father needs to say before Felix agrees. 

Felix takes down his first man on the very ground where his brother was slayed. It’s almost poetic. 

Fire burns all around them, the smell of blood thick in the air, copper on his tongue when he breathes. 

The Boar Prince is born from the flames surrounding them. Felix can’t do anything but watch as Dimitri turns from his friend into a murderous beast. He rips soldiers apart with his bare hands, howling and roaring into the night just as if he were a wild animal. There’s a sick, twisted joy about the way Dimitri moves, mowing through the rival soldiers as if they were toys. 

It’s then that Felix promises he will never let himself become anything like that. While Dimitri drowns in his grief, Felix swears that he will learn to swim. He will. 

He promises. 

.

The past four years of his life have been full of training and becoming the man that he’s always wanted to be. He may not be as tall as Dimitri or Sylvain, but he’s stopped getting strange stares. It helps that he is thin and small-chested. He doesn’t have shapely hips to hide, and a simple bandage wrap obscures his breasts completely. 

About a year ago, his father had brought him to see a special mage-- one that would change his body to a more masculine structure. Apparently, many women would go to this mage if they found themselves in an arranged marriage they didn’t want or if they wanted a higher position of power that couldn’t be reached as a woman. The mage had given him ointments and had casted spells. And believe it or not, it worked better than Felix expected. His voice got deeper and his breasts halted their growth. He even got an inch taller. His father made sure his name and gender were changed on his birth records. People stopped trying to remember the Duke’s daughter, and instead, started looking at Felix for who he really was. 

He is Felix Hugo Fraldarius, and now he’s a student at the officer’s academy at Gareg Mach.

The first days at the Officer’s academy are a flurry of misery. 

There are dozens of nobles from around the country that he has never met, and dozens more commoners that are off looking starry-eyed about knighthood and chivalry as if they were things to be desired. Felix pities them.

He knew he would be in the Blue Lions house, and he knew that the boar prince would be their house leader. He was glad to see Sylvain and Ingrid there, even though he knew they were all attending. He’s anxious to see how much they’ve grown as fighters compared to him. He hopes he’s better than all of them.

Talking to his childhood friends now feels different than it ever has before. Everything that Felix has been through chewed him up and spit him out. He’s better for it, at least he thinks so. He knows his father doesn’t agree. No longer is he the crybaby following Sylvain around for attention or the happy kid skipping rocks with Ingrid next to a pond. He’s different now, and they are too.

Shortly after Dimitri had acted like a wild beast during battle, Felix had started to watch him. He watched and watched. He was looking for any sign of his old friend inside the Boar. He came up empty-handed. 

In that way they’re similar. They both lost who they once were, burying their old selves along with their families in the soil.

The Blue Lions house gets a new professor shortly after Felix arrives. She’s a strange character, but Felix knows she’s strong-- stronger than he is. Dimitri blushes every time he looks at her like the pathetic sham he is. Sylvain is… well, as Sylvain as always. Felix knows when he should shut up and listen. Maybe someday Sylvain will too. 

After the first day of classes with their new professor are through, Felix decides that it’s time to train. Byleth had taught him a new sword technique that he’s just itching to try. He gets about halfway to the training room when he hears his name being called and footsteps following closely behind him.

“Felix! You ran off back there. I was thinking that maybe we could grab some lunch.” 

“And why would that be?” 

Sylvain stops in his tracks for a moment before he jogs a little and catches up to Felix. He’s still not used to Felix’s new, abrasive personality. Felix almost feels bad about it. 

“Is it so weird that I’d want to catch up with my oldest and best friend?”

Felix makes a face. “I suppose not, but I’m busy right now.”

“Oh? What are you doing?”

“Training. You could use some. Why don’t you come with if you’re so desperate to see me?”

“Fine!” Sylvain says, throwing his hands out to the side as he walks. “Let’s train, Felix.” 

Felix learns a few things then: Sylvain is quicker than he looks, and even stronger than he was when they were kids and he would lift him up to pick fruit off trees. He’s also so much smarter than Felix always gives him credit for. He dodges one of Felix’s crest-powered hits and a pleased smirk spreads across his features. It’s the first time in a long time that Sylvain’s managed to move faster than him and dodge one of his blows. Felix gets caught up in it, in Sylvain, in fighting his friend as an equal like this. 

The second thing Felix learns is that even though they're wooden, getting hit with a practice weapon in his ribs hurts. 

“Hang on,” he says, throwing a hand up as he doubles over in pain. His ribs hurt him every day from the bandages he has to wrap around his chest, but this is- 

Felix’s stomach churns. “Sylvain,” he pants. 

Felix’s vision swims. He tips over before he can stop himself and the world goes black. 

He comes to inside of a bedroom that’s not his. 

He sits up with a gasp, and then gasps again when the blanket that was covering his chest immediately falls. For just a second, his chest is exposed before he brings the blanket up to cover himself. His eyes immediately land on a blushing Sylvain and a very apologetic-looking Mercedes sitting on the other side of the room. 

“Wh-” Felix starts.

“You passed out,” Sylvain tells him. His hand goes to the back of his neck and rubs it in that way that he always does when he’s trying to look sheepish. “I didn’t even hit you that hard. I was scared and I knew you’d be mad if I brought you anywhere else so I brought you here because I trust Mercedes and I-” He sighs. “Fe, you scared me.” 

Felix grinds his teeth. Mercedes hasn’t said anything yet. 

Felix grumbles, “I didn’t mean to scare you. I didn’t want to. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Felix,” Mercedes starts. “Your ribs-”

“They've been like that for years! I don’t know why it’s any different now.”

“What are you gonna do when you’re in the middle of a battle and someone bumps into your ribs gently, huh? What are you gonna do, Felix? Fall over and let them kill you?”

Any retort that Felix wanted to say dies in his throat. It was barely a hit. Sylvain has a point. 

When he doesn’t say anything else, Mercedes starts to speak again. “Your ribs had fractures along them. One had a divot from the-” She pauses, and Felix can tell she doesn’t know what to say. “The bandage that you were using. Do you ever take it off?”

Felix looks down at his hand that he's balled up into a fist inside of his lap. His other hand carefully keeps his chest covered. 

“Sometimes...when I shower.” He figures there’s no point in lying. Sometimes showering without it on makes him feel so bad he wants to scream. Sometimes he does. 

“Felix, that’s no good. You have to give your ribs a rest or the next time, I might not be able to heal them.” 

Felix doesn’t say anything. He knows that Mercedes is right. For the first time in years, he feels like crying. 

“In the meantime, I want you to come and get healed by me once a week, okay?” 

Felix nods. He feels like he should say thank you, but he knows if he speaks again he won't be able to stop the tears that threaten to fall. Sylvain says it for him, always being willing to fill in the voids that Felix leaves open. “Thank you, Mercedes. I knew we could trust you.” 

“Of course. We’ll give you a minute to get dressed.” 

The door closes behind them and Felix sighs. He hates being weak. If it means that he’ll be stronger, then he guesses accepting help isn’t the worst thing that could happen. 

.

Felix trains with anyone who will fight him. Somedays that’s one of his classmates, Sylvain or even Dimitri. Today, that’s Catherine and Shamir. 

Felix has gotten to fight on one mission with them so far. They’re both incredibly skilled fighters, even if Catherine is forever starry-eyed about knighthood. She and Glenn would have gotten along well, Felix thinks. He likes Shamir the most. She’s steady in her beliefs, calculating and more than anything, quiet. 

That’s why Felix thinks it’s almost shocking when she turns to Catherine and says, “Did you hear what happened to Leah and her battalion?” Maybe it was meant to distract Felix, because the next swing of his sword is easily blocked by Shamir’s axe. 

“Leah?” Catherine questions. She’s sitting off to the side, sharpening her gauntlets. “Wasn’t she away on a mission in Dagda?”

“The very same.” Shamir swings cleverly at Felix and he has to jump to dodge it. “Damn, you’re fast.” She holds her hand out to signal that she wants a break and Felix gives a little nod. He takes a seat next to Catherine to catch his breath and looks up at Shamir, because even he’s curious about what happened to this Leah woman. 

Shamir wipes the sweat from her brow and says, “They were captured by enemy forces. The men were slain, but the women…”

“Dear Goddess,” Catherine says, shaking her head and looking to the floor. 

“What?” Felix asks. “What happened?”

Shamir scoffs. “Of course a nobleman like yourself wouldn’t know what happens to women who get overpowered.” Felix frowns slightly at her words. They’re right, but _not_ at the same time. Not like he’d say anything about it. 

Catherine explains, “If a woman is captured, there’s normally one thing that happens. She’s used and if her body does well she’s kept as a slave for the soldiers, if not…” she breaks off in a shrug and then looks up to Shamir. “Did Leah make it?”

“Thankfully, yes. They didn’t take the women too far before her reinforcement troops found them. She’ll be okay.” 

Catherine looks at Felix and double takes. “You’re pale as a ghost, Felix. I had no idea your noble sensibilities were so fragile.” 

Felix makes an angry growl of a noise. “It’s not that! It’s-” He stops then, because what is it? The fact that now he’s so suddenly aware of the fact that he could meet the same fate as those women easily? What if the enemy soldiers were to discover his body? How could he keep them away? He thinks of a man with strength like Sylvian, or even one like Dimitri. He has to repress the shudder that runs through him. “It’s nothing. I’m glad your friend is okay.”

Felix’s mind never settles back into the quiet that fighting normally brings him. He blames that for Shamir easily defeating him. She stands over him, her foot resting on his chest lightly. “You better toughen up, Fraldarius. You’d look awfully pretty in a dress.” Next to her, Catherine laughs. 

He has nothing to say back to them. Everything is far too close to the truth. 

That night, Felix dreams. He has horrible dreams of terrible things, of men crowding over him and pulling at his clothes, discovering what he tries so very hard to hide. 

He wakes up covered in sweat and filled with unease.

.

For the first time in his life, Felix feels weak. He doesn’t know how to stop it.

.

Byleth assigns Felix stable duty alongside Dimitri that week. Felix can’t help but roll his eyes and thunk his head on the table upon hearing it. Fantastic. His least favorite job with his least favorite person. Dimitri doesn’t seem to be any more thrilled than he is, and Felix is happily surprised when the two of them walk wordlessly to the stables together when class is over. There’s no princely small talk or attempts at rebuilding burnt bridges. Felix is grateful. 

When they reach the stables, Dimitri just wordlessly hands him a bucket and brush and gets to work. Felix fills his bucket up with water and goes to the horse next to where Dimitri is standing. As soon as he gets close, however, the horse begins to show signs of distress-- making noise and shaking her head. Her shoes clack loudly against the stone floor of the stable. 

Felix throws his hand up in a non-threatening gesture. “Hey! I’m just trying to clean you like the professor told me to do. Calm down.” He tries to keep his voice even and calm. “Will you let me clean you?” He takes a step forward and is met with even more distressed actions from the horse. Felix steps back, sighing in annoyance. He sets down the bucket and brush on the floor and places his hands on his hips. “Okay, _your highness_ , do you have any tips for me? Or maybe I could interest you in a trade?”

“Felix, calm down,” Dimitri tells him. “Don’t raise your voice. You’re going to make them all get upset.” 

“I’m not y-” Felix starts before he hears his voice echo off of the walls of the stable and stops. Maybe he was speaking a bit too loudly. “Okay,” he acquiesces. “What’s next?”

Dimitri gives an amused little laugh. “Felix, she’s never going to let you near her if you’re acting like that.”

“Like what, Boar?” Felix huffs. 

“She can tell you don’t want to be here, just like I can. She can also tell that you’re nervous.”

Felix doesn’t say anything back, deciding to look at Dimitri instead. He brushes the horse’s mane gently, eyes soft in a way Felix remembers from when they were young. Dimitri’s always loved horses. 

“Something’s been bothering you for the past few days, hasn’t it, Felix? I’ve been able to tell in the way that you fight. There’s a split second of hesitation before you swing your sword that I’ve never seen before.”

Felix’s gaze drifts to the floor. He shuffles his boots against the dusty stone. 

“Hm. I knew I was right.” Before Felix can think of a snappy retort, Dimitri keeps talking. “You don’t have to tell me what’s troubling you. But know that this horse is never going to trust you if you don’t trust yourself.” 

Felix meets Dimitri’s eyes then. The same softness that he had for the horses reflects the way he’s looking at Felix. 

“Do you trust yourself, Felix?”

Felix doesn’t stay to answer. He turns on his heel and leaves. 

He’ll deal with facing Byleth’s disappointed stare when it comes. 

.

The next day isn’t any better, as it starts off even with Byleth’s disappointed stare and goes downhill from there.

By lunch, Sylvain’s beaten him in their sparring matches three times. That’s bad enough, but then he starts _talking_.

“What’s gotten into you, huh, Fe?”

“What are you on about?”

“I mean what the hell has gotten into you? I’ve never known you to be this sloppy. I mean, you’re practically letting me win.” To prove his point Sylvain swipes his feet out from underneath him as he’s thinking of a reply. 

Felix lands hard on his bottom with an _oof_. 

He looks up at Sylvain, realizing suddenly just how big and almost _scary_ he seems _._ Felix realizes just how small he is in comparison to his closest friend. He realizes in that moment how easily he could be overpowered by him.

He doesn’t like it, not at all. “Stop it!” He yells to Sylvain. “I’m done for the day.”

Then, like the pure coward that he apparently is, he gets up and runs. 

Sylvain finds him later, sitting on the edge of a stone wall overlooking a forest of green that surrounds the monastery. 

“You’re not the type to run from anything.”

Felix scoffs, making sure to shoot Sylvain a glare when he sits down next to him. “I wasn’t running. I was just done.”

“Yeah, you’re not the type to be done either.”

To that, Felix frowns, knowing that he’s caught. He sighs, then opens his mouth to speak. “It’s clear that I ’m different. I’m not like you or Dimitri or anyone else here.”

“Right,” Sylvain says. “Nobody is as bull-headed and hardworking. Oh! Don’t forget rude and outspoken.”

Felix gives Sylvain a look and he returns it with a smile. 

“Felix, you’re the strongest man I know. You’ve been through so much and came out the other side. Sure, you’re different, but you’re strong. You motivate me to work hard every day.” 

For a moment, Felix doesn’t say anything, just letting Sylvain’s words wash over him. He’s right. He’s the same as he always was. He’s Felix Hugo Fraldarious. No one else. 

Felix wonders what it says about him that Sylvain’s always there, always the one to make him feel better when he doesn’t think it could be possible. 

He figures those feelings are for another time. 

Finally, Felix responds, “That doesn’t say very much about me, considering how lazy you are.” 

Sylvain throws his head back and laughs. 

.

It’s a week later when they go to battle again. 

The battle’s a whirlwind of terror and blood, or screams and the need to protect. The battle’s full of Felix. He can’t even believe he was worried before, not with how he’s cutting through enemies left and right. Sylvain’s words took whatever doubt he had inside his head and threw it away. Felix crest activates, activates _again_ and down goes another one of his foes.

From his right he hears Byleth say, “Wow, Felix! Keep it going! You can do this!” He gives her a nod. He can do this. He will do this.

Confidence surges within him where there was none before. He feels almost like he’s on fire with it. He knows he’s going to take each and every one of these fools down. He doesn’t even need help, even if he is thankful for it. 

Suddenly Felix is reminded of himself, all those years ago. This battle is his younger self’s wildest dream. He refuses to let himself down. He is not the meek, crybaby child that he once was. He is a fighter, a warrior, and a damn good one at that. 

The battle ends. Rain starts to fall, washing away the blood and gore from their victory, leaving sweetness in its wake. Felix meets Sylvain’s eyes from across the field. Sylvain gives him a wink and a smile that makes Felix roll his eyes, but his cheeks do turn a little pink. 

It doesn’t matter though, because he leaves the battle with his head held higher than ever before. 

He is strong, he is free. He’s exactly who he wants to be. 

He is Felix, and no one else. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This was a very personal, enjoyable thing for me to write!


End file.
